Fallen
by Klee
Summary: When it truly means you can't get up //Slash Implied// Updated: Chapter 2: the fic
1. the poem

Hello Friends! This is just a short poem that hit me while I was not paying attention in Geometry (Why is it that that's the only class I can create stuff in? I tried in Spanish.. it doesn't work.)  
  
Anyway it's in Harry or Draco's point of view, it's not hard to figure out who. But, hey, if you don't like slash go right ahead and pretend it's someone else.  
  
Oh yes and sorry I didn't add any punctuation. I tried, believe me. But I'm not a poet and I gave up ;_;  
  
  
  
Fallen  
  
~When it truly means you can't get up  
  
  
  
Keep walking  
  
Even if your heart aches with silent fury  
  
Keep walking.  
  
Even if the scars deep inside don't fade  
  
Keep walking  
  
- - - - - - -  
  
Even if the pain becomes too great  
  
Keep walking  
  
Too much  
  
Keep walking  
  
Too soon  
  
- - - - - - -  
  
Even if you stumble  
  
Keep walking  
  
Don't worry  
  
Keep walking  
  
I'll catch you  
  
Keep walking  
  
And push you down again  
  
- - - - - - -  
  
Even if you think my hate for you reaches my heart  
  
Keep walking  
  
Even if you think the sneer on my face reaches my eyes  
  
Keep walking  
  
- - - - - - -  
  
Because I.. I..  
  
Just keep walking  
  
Please keep walking  
  
Because I know what's it's like to have fallen  
  
We're not as different as you might think  
  
Keep walking  
  
But we're so different it's scary  
  
It scares me  
  
- - - - - - -  
  
I have fallen  
  
Keep walking  
  
So don't stop  
  
Keep walking  
  
Please  
  
Keep walking  
  
I need you to walk far away from me  
  
- - - - - - -  
  
Keep walking  
  
The worst thing you can do is stop and help  
  
Because I've fallen  
  
Keep walking  
  
It's the worst thing I could do  
  
Keep walking  
  
Anyone could do  
  
Keep walking  
  
Because it's truly a fate worse then death  
  
Keep walking  
  
Since I've fallen for you  
  
  
  
- - - - -  
  
Fluffy!! Hehe, couldn't resist. You like? I'm also toying around with the idea of turning this into a one chaptered fic.. any suggestions? Oh and please, make my day. Practice your clicking and typing skills by filling out a review. I know you can do it! ^_^ Thanks for reading! 


	2. the fic

Hey guys! Well here's the fic I promised. But I must warn you that it is considerably lighter then the poem but, as RS pointed out, it works with the fic. You can decide and tell me what you think though *nudge, nudge*  
  
Dedication: To all of our members at BOHDL, and RS and Li-chan for putting up with me so.  
  
  
  
- - - - - - -  
  
Keep walking  
  
Even if your heart aches with silent fury  
  
Keep walking  
  
Even if the scars deep inside don't fade  
  
Keep walking  
  
- - - - - - -  
  
"What's the matter Potter? Late for your fan club meeting?"  
  
I hear the provoking tone in my drawl and it causes me to smile to myself. I watch with a triumphant smirk as the golden boy himself turns to stare at me from almost two feet away, his hands balled up in fists, his pride unwilling to fight a battle lying down. Thank god he's predictable.  
  
"Still selling photographs or are you selling bigger and better things? Like yourself perhaps?"  
  
He gives me a funny look. "Why, want to buy me, Malfoy?"  
  
I shrug, keeping a cool composure.  
  
He shook his head once and turned around, aiming to escape and I promptly latch onto his arm. "And where do you think you're going?" I know I sound dominating, but I'm bored. I can't stand myself when I'm bored.  
  
He turned once more and raised his eyebrows so far up I could barely see them anymore. With a tug he stole his arm back and straightened his shoulders. We're almost the same in height so I guess doing that makes him feel more powerful. I don't understand it myself but…  
  
"As much as you'd like to think otherwise, I'm not your slave. I can do anything I damn well please."  
  
It was a few days till the Christmas break was over. The castle was still buzzing with the warm afterglow of yuletide cheer and yet the only one who seemed to be immune to the Christmas bug was none other then me, the Ice Prince. Ha I love that title. And Potter is lucky enough to have to spend his Christmas with me and a few other 3rd and 2nd year students, but who cares about them? It's all about me!  
  
Which brings us back to our latest squabble, # 3874. (And yes, I've been keeping track.)  
  
I make a gesture as if to wave the words away. "So are you Potter?"  
  
Now he looked down right exasperated, "Am I what?"  
  
"Selling yourself."  
  
"If I told you yes, would you go away?" Harry's eyes narrowed and he crossed his arms.  
  
"Now why would I do a nice thing like that?" I roll my eyes and reply a bit stiffly, "I would think Potter that you have learned at least a little bit in the last 6 years."  
  
"I should have guessed as much," he sighs, glancing around the hallway I have conveniently hunted him down in.  
  
My gaze looks past Potter as I see a blonde blur--which we distinguished later as an accident-prone 3rd year-- hurtling toward us with no intention of slowing down and then- WHAM!  
  
- - - - - - -  
  
Even if the pain becomes too great  
  
Keep walking  
  
Too much  
  
Keep walking  
  
Too soon  
  
- - - - - - -  
  
The next thing I know, I'm laying on my back in the middle of the main corridor on the 3rd floor with Harry Potter, The Fucking Boy Who Has Not Died Yet, lying on top of me. His body is pressing my back into the cold, unforgiving floor beneath us but, right now, I don't care because now I can feel the warmth of his skin radiating into the folds of my robes, the ones sheltering me from getting a real touch of the essence of Harry Potter, and I can feel his heart beating *so* *fast*. Not like mine isn't doing the same. It's a funny business having your nemesis lay on top of you in an oh- so compromiseable situation.  
  
"Potter," I said lightly then swore and cleared my throat, saying harsher, feigning disgust, "Get off me! What in Merlins name are you wait-" The worst thing he could have done at that moment was pick his head up and move his mouth away from the crook of my neck (which presently was causing me to shiver as his warm breath ghosted across my neck) because then we'd be-... ah I'm speechless already.  
  
And of course, he does it because he's a Gryffindor and all Gryffindor's are stupid.  
  
- - - - - - -  
  
Even if you stumble  
  
Keep walking  
  
Don't worry  
  
Keep walking  
  
I'll catch you  
  
Keep walking  
  
And push you down again  
  
- - - - - - -  
  
And then, we freeze. It's hard to ignore the feel of Harry's- aah Potter's lips on mine. They're so warm and soft. It's almost like dying. It's almost like taking that first breath. It's like… perfection; and we aren't even moving. And now, I'm confused.  
  
My eyes flash open and so do his, and we're looking at each other and we're still kissing, if you can call it that. I don't know what to think but my first impulse is to shove him off, but he's done that for me. His arms plant themselves on the floor and now he's supporting his weight on them instead of me and for some unknown reason I'm slightly disappointed. Slightly. And what's this voice in my head screaming because his lips are now hovering above me instead of *on* me. God Draco you're so screwed up.  
  
I watch him blink a few times and shake his head, trying to get rid of the feeling I'm guessing. Must've not been good enough for the Golden Boy. Of course, I'll never be good enough.  
  
And I'm still very aware that he still hasn't gotten off me yet.  
  
"Potter, I'm sorry if you derive some pleasure out of all this but I'm starting to loose feeling in my legs."  
  
He gives me a crossed look and awkwardly stands on shaky legs, his face tinted with a light pink as he smoothes out his robes, all the while throwing me a few sketchy looks here and there.  
  
I pull myself into an upright position and hoist myself up with natural born grace, looking at him with a slight pout. "What no help? Some gentlemen your parents brought you up to be."  
  
He glares again, opening his mouth to say something but nothing comes out.  
  
"Do I leave you speechless, Potter?" I smirk. This is just so fun.  
  
"NO!" He nearly roars and now I know I've got him bordering on the 'I need to hit something, preferably the blonde squishy object right in front of me' or the 'Just be the Gryffindor prat that I am and walk away and be the better man.' "Just-just shut-"  
  
"Oh so now you're stuttering?" I raise an eyebrow suggestively, blatantly ignoring the fact that we were snogging just two minutes ago, and sneer. "My Potter, if I weren't always right I'd say that you have feelings for me."  
  
He graced me with another death glare then frowned. "What was that?  
  
I blink, slightly thrown. "An insult? Surely you've heard enough from me these years. Oh well want some more? I've got plenty"  
  
"No… no." He replied slowly and shook his head, his eyes glued to the floor. Whether it was a conscious act or not he was tracing his lips with his fingers. "What was *that*"  
  
For once in my life *I'm* speechless.  
  
- - - - - - -  
  
Even if you think my hate for you reaches my heart  
  
Keep walking  
  
Even if you think the sneer on my face reaches my eyes  
  
Keep walking  
  
- - - - - - -  
  
And now I'm feeling trapped. I suddenly don't want to be here. I don't want to answer that question and I definitely *don't* want that to happen again.  
  
Ah who am I kidding? Who can resist the emerald eyes and the innocent look? He's just so… angelic. So angelic I just want to break him so he's just like the rest of us.  
  
Or perhaps we'd be more like him.  
  
I don't know anymore. All I know is that it feels like the walls are closing in and I can't breathe as easily anymore. Potter's picked it up and he's giving me an almost worried look.  
  
"Malfoy? You ok?"  
  
Damn him. He's too compassionate.  
  
Another worried look and he takes a little step forward as my heads starts to spin and so does the world around me.  
  
He's too… kind.  
  
And I feel consciousness flee away and my legs give out and I fall, waiting for the ground to hit me with a vicious punch.  
  
But it doesn't happen because Harry catches me.  
  
He's too… Harry.  
  
- - - - - - -  
  
Because I.. I..  
  
Just keep walking  
  
Please keep walking  
  
Because I know what's it's like to have fallen  
  
Keep walking  
  
We're not as different as you might think  
  
Keep walking  
  
But we're so different it's scary  
  
It scares me  
  
- - - - - - -  
  
My silver eyes flicker open and my heads pounds. Where am I? What happened? I feel warm and secure, something that's never happened since I was too little to crawl or walk. And even then it was fake. The warmth and security, it was all a lie. My whole childhood was a lie. I'm a lie.  
  
But this… no this can't be a lie. I won't allow it.  
  
I rub my eyes and sit up realizing only then that I was wrapped in and leaning on something warm and soft. I blink and turn around and there *he* is, bathed in the golden light of dawn. I assume he tried to make me come to and fell asleep in the process. I remember feeling dizzy and passing out. I frown deeply. Father always told me fainting is one of the biggest signs of weakness.  
  
Oh yeah and falling into the arms of your enemy, not counting kissing him and sleeping on him doesn't count as weakness. Nope, not at all.  
  
Shut up. No one asked you.  
  
I sigh and try to get up, but Harry stirs and tightens his grip on me. I give a sideways glance to see if he is really asleep.  
  
I prod him. He grunts a little. Yup, he's asleep.  
  
It's funny how he seems to need me. At least he does in his sleep.  
  
I sigh, contented, for a few seconds and lean back, snuggling up against him. This feels so… so right.  
  
Then my mind snaps. This isn't right. No, not at all. It oversteps all bounds of nature. This is *not* right.  
  
Yes it is.  
  
No it *feels* right. But it's not right.  
  
Same thing.  
  
Fuck you, all right?  
  
Draco, I'd rather leave that for Harry.  
  
One of these days…  
  
As I'm arguing with myself, (Yes I do realize how stupid that sounds) I carefully disentangle myself from him. He protests, I can see it in his features, but he doesn't wake up. And I slip away.  
  
  
  
Ok so now, almost 8 hours later I'm standing in the snow and I'm *cold*! I can see my breath! This isn't natural.  
  
I hate being cold. I hate snow, I hate winter, and I just really can't stand being cold. There's something unnerving in seeing that the skin on your hands almost makes the snow look dull.  
  
I tried to tan! I really, really tried. It worked for a day. Then I was back to being white as a ghost. Just one more difference between me and Potter, I guess.  
  
Speaking of which, the reason why I'm here. I take out a little piece of parchment out of my pocket and re-read it for what must be the hundredth time. Yup, there it was clear as green crystal.  
  
"Meet me at the docks. 10 tonight. Watch your footing; don't want you to fall again.  
  
-Harry"  
  
Bloody nice of you to be looking out for my well-being Potter. Hmmph.  
  
I was just about to turn around and trudge back into the slightly warmer dungeons when- THWAP!  
  
Biting snow slid down the back of my head and danced most of it's way down my back. My eyes scanned the area until they fell on my attacker who was doubled over with laughter at the very edge of the dock, trapping me in a way. "Yeah ha ha… you Gryffindors do the stupidest things," I commented dryly but Potter didn't seem to be listening anymore since he was *still* laughing. "That's it." I stooped down and brought a handful of snow up with me.  
  
Target sighted. Target locked. Target aimed. Target hit! Score 10 for me, none for him!  
  
He wiped the tears out of his eyes and the snow off his head and started toward me. I figured I'd do the same so I wouldn't have to walk so far when I'd have to head inside. That was probably one of the worst and best things I've ever done, meeting him halfway.  
  
Damn the ice. Just damn it all. It's so slippery. And so for the 3rd time in 24 hours I fell yet again. My face pressed into the snow that had gathered on the planks in large piles and I sighed.  
  
"Falling for me again Malfoy?" Potter laughed and kneeled down next to me. A muffled response found his ears.  
  
"Malfoy," he prodded me, "Get up."  
  
Another muffle. I'm really, really cold now. I can barely feel my feet.  
  
At least your hands are nice and warm.  
  
Bloody good that'll do. I can't fucking walk on my hands!  
  
If you really wanted to you could.  
  
Just shut up will you?  
  
Yeah how're you going to make me?  
  
"Draco!" Harry rolled me over so not only was my front soaked but now so was my back. How thoughtful of him. At least now I can breathe. And look at him.  
  
What was that warm, tingly feeling?  
  
I give him a pained look and sit up, sighing and gesturing to my soddened robes. "Thanks *a lot*, Potter."  
  
And then he sticks his hand out to help me up. I frown and study it. It resembles something too much like a truce and I really don't want to stop fighting with him. So, I ignore it and help myself up.  
  
"What do you want with me Potter?" I cross my arms and look at him, puffing out jets of misty clouds as I exhale. A few strands of white blonde hair fell into my eyes but I don't bother with brushing them away.  
  
He held out a tentative hand directed toward my face. I watched it for a few seconds, reaching out for me but too afraid to actually meet it's final destination.  
  
"I don't bite, Potter." I say softly with only a slight under tone of sarcasm.  
  
He brushes the wisps of silver away from my eyes, dropping his eyes shyly to the ground promptly after. "What do you feel?" I'm now numb from shock and he says it so quietly I can hardly hear him.  
  
"Pardon?"  
  
He sighs impatiently and looks at me again, a slightly annoyed look to him. "I asked how you feel."  
  
How do I feel? I feel confused. And a little afraid. ("Weakness!") And a little… happy? No, that's not it; I don't know what happiness is. I feel… inspired. Enlightened. I feel… smarter. I feel… better. Inside, you know? I feel like a better person. Less… evil. I glance at him and there's that funny feeling again. Like a sudden warmth spreading through your veins. Almost like poison.  
  
But now all I really, really want to do is go inside.  
  
And kiss him.  
  
But I'm… I'm…  
  
"Cold." I give him a severe look. "I feel really, really cold."  
  
I look away from him, gazing to my left. I can't let this happen. No, no this can't be it can't happen it mustn't happen I can't allow it but I want it to. No, no you don't. Shrug him off; walk away, god damnit run away if you have to just-  
  
Leave.  
  
- - - - - - -  
  
I have fallen  
  
Keep walking  
  
So don't stop  
  
Keep walking  
  
Please  
  
Keep walking  
  
I need you to walk far away from me  
  
- - - - - - -  
  
And then I feel really, really warm. Like someone started a fire right in the middle of my chest. But it's only Harry since now he's wrapped his arms around me and I feel like a puddle. But I lock my knees firmly in place and tense up concentrating on *not* leaning on him.  
  
A Malfoy never needs any help from anyone, ever.  
  
"Draco," he says softly near my ear and I shiver. I wonder if he noticed. "You're trembling. Maybe we should go in."  
  
I almost smack him for even considering letting me go now. But instead I keep my voice even and emotionless and say, "What did you want Potter? Why'd you send that message to me."  
  
"You don't feel it?"  
  
"I'm surprised you think I even have feelings."  
  
"Let's drop the act for a moment," he steps away slightly so he can look at me but he doesn't let go. I wonder why.  
  
I sigh and I know he's right for once. I think for a moment, choosing my words carefully, "I feel… warm."  
  
His eyebrows rise a little in surprise and a small smile plays on his lips. "I'll tell you what I feel." Now he's smirking and I've never seen that kind of look before on his features and it causes me to gulp.  
  
"And, pray tell, what do you feel?"  
  
"This."  
  
And with wide eyes I watch him pull me close and tilt his head forward, eyes closed and he seems to be sure of himself. Of *this*. And at the moment our lips touch, I'm sure of it too.  
  
The first time we kissed it wasn't passionate and overwhelming, it was a re- birth. It was realization.  
  
But this is… this is something utterly and brilliantly new because this time I'm kissing him back. My traitorous arms find his shoulders and pull him close, kissing him firmly and getting a good feel of his lips. His hands move up my chest and link around my neck, his fingers tangling in my hair. And then his lips part and his tongue flickers against my own lips, the velvet heat trickling to the very center of the heart I didn't know I had.  
  
It's all too much and I gasp. He jumps at the chance and now I'm receiving another sensation all together.  
  
I don't know how I lived without this.  
  
Or maybe I haven't been living until now.  
  
So now we're battling for power but it's a fight I've never fought. I don't even care if I win just as long as we're fighting. This passion… I didn't think it existed.  
  
"Potter," I say breathless when we break apart, his hands still in my hair and I'm satisfied in not letting him go just yet. I can't call him Harry, it sounds so wrong even in my head. I hardly know him. "I see what you mean."  
  
He smiles at me, not one of those plastic smiles but a real, genuine smile. "Still cold?"  
  
  
  
Perhaps this is falling after all.  
  
It's been about 11 hours since our snow escapade and the flames in the grate cackle merrily at us. He's sleeping now on the bed across the room and I'm sitting on the windowsill drinking in the sight of the night sky and the stars while I let my thoughts wander, taking me with them.  
  
We came here and talked for a really long time. I feel like I know a little more about him, but still not enough. But it was late and he was tired. I've been watching him the whole time. There's something so erotically peaceful in watching someone sleep. They're so vulnerable and yet he's sleeping anyway.  
  
I've always heard that love was something similar to flying; being lifted into the air and soaring into the newfound freeness in your heart. Well what if it was falling? Falling deeper and deeper into the chasm that passion and unyielding desire create when dangerous doses are mixed together.  
  
If you fall down enough you'll eventually stay that way and you won't be able to get out… like some sort of trap. The harder you try to leave the more you'll fall deeper. It's like running around in circles until you create a hole in the ground and you fall into it; and the more you run the more you'll sink deeper and deeper until you won't be able to know which way if up and which way is down. Likewise for the opposite: If you sit there and wait for help to come maybe, just maybe it will. When you're dead. Screaming at the bloody top of your lungs will do absolutely nothing for you. Escape is inconceivable.  
  
And for me? Ha. There's no chance of survival.  
  
My eyes shift sideways and I take in the soft olive skin, the wisps of night-kissed hair slanted across his forehead, the eyes shut tight concealing ethereal pools of emerald green, and his pink lips parted slightly as he sleeps and I feel the sides of my lips tugging upward slightly without my consent.  
  
Nope, no chance at all.  
  
I'm in too deep.  
  
- - - - - - -  
  
Keep walking  
  
The worst thing you can do is stop and help  
  
Because I've fallen  
  
It's the worst thing I could do  
  
Keep walking  
  
Anyone could do  
  
Keep walking  
  
Because it's truly a fate worse then death  
  
Keep walking  
  
Since I've fallen for you  
  
- - - - - - -  
  
  
  
  
  
AN: *Taps foot impatiently* Well? What'd you think? And if you never review, how will I know? 


End file.
